Dead Shot (A Cal Murphy Thriller Book 1)

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

"I think we're in the clear now," Cal shouted over his shoulder at Kelly.

He had only driven about 100 yards past the entrance to his apartment complex before veering onto a dirt road.

"Yeah, but for how long?"

Kelly looked like a contestant on a reality TV show after being told that she would get $100,000 if she laid in an enclosed glass case full of tarantulas. Adding to that look were wind-forced tears that had streaked mascara down her face during the getaway.

Cal still thought she looked cute.

"Just hold tight. I'm heading to a place where they won't find us."

"Where's that?"

"Devil's Canyon."

Devil's Canyon was a dirt bike enthusiast's heaven. Rolling dirt hills, devoid of any man-made objects, for miles. Four-wheeled vehicles didn't do well in Devil's Canyon. Even Land Rovers and Jeeps struggled. There were plenty of caves as well to hide in should someone spot them. At this time of day, everything was quiet. But by four o'clock, Devil's Canyon would be humming with the buzz of two-stroke engines. It was two o'clock and they needed to be gone before all the riders descended there.

In this vast expanse of space, Cal knew his dirt biking skills would serve him well. The only potential pit fall was the long chain-link fence that served as a surprisingly secure perimeter for the back property of Cloverdale Industries, nearly two miles away. But riding toward it would be pointless anyway, like running upstairs in a horror movie to escape the slow-walking villain.

Cal drove toward his favorite cave to provide some cover from the blazing sun and to hide from any curious onlookers. He helped Kelly off first before putting down his kickstand and climbing off the bike.

Kelly shook for two minutes after getting off the bike.

"Cal, we are in way over our heads," she finally muttered.

Cal said nothing and shook his head. He was scared, but equally perplexed over why someone wanted to kill him. What did I do? What secret am I close to?

"What are we gonna do?"

Kelly needed answers. She needed assurance. Tough and tender. She was both, but her tough side was curled up in a corner wishing that their near-death experience was nothing more than a bad dream. It wasn't.

Cal collected his thoughts and finally began to give Kelly something else she needed: a plan.

"I think we should lay low for an hour or so and then try to get back to town. Maybe we can call Guy."

"Are you crazy? He'll fire you if he finds out what happened. He'll jump to the conclusion that you were doing what he told you not to do and then tell you to take a hike. A storm cloud of suspicion was already forming over you before this happened."

"You're right. The problem is there's only one person in this town that I trust at the moment-and that's you."

Cal pulled his iPhone out of his pocket. He had no cell tower coverage anyway, so the idea was moot.

"If we're gone long, there's going to be an all-out hunt for us. You remember what happened when the Atkins' girl wandered off her family's ranch? There was a team of more than 100 people combing the hills for her. They're going to come looking for us like that."

"That might not be such a bad idea."

"Or it could be a terrible thing. More than one person in this town seems intent on keeping the truth buried."

"OK, OK. Let's just think about what plan of action makes the most sense."

The next 10 minutes were an exercise in futility. The beginning of an idea would be proffered only to be instantly shot down. Just like their investigation, they were going nowhere.

Then Cal stopped.

"Do you hear that?" he said, squinting south toward the direction of the main road leading into Devil's Canyon.

"Yeah, it sounds like some dirt bikes are headed this way."

Kelly joined him in peering out across the dirt hills, searching for the first glimpse of another rider. The westerly prevailing winds thrashed the desert dirt floor and carried the faint sounds of a motorcycle.

In a matter of seconds, it was clear the bike was headed toward their location. Cal wasn't sure if he wanted to solicit the help of a stranger or not. He wanted to see his potential aid first before making a decision.

The buzzing engine got louder and louder. Cal could tell there was more than one bike. Neither he nor Kelly moved, almost holding their breaths. They were both hoping for someone who could help.

Finally, about 400 yards away, a bike appeared. But it wasn't what Cal and Kelly were hoping for.

The first of the two armed gunmen was barreling toward them.